Moments in Time
by PatientNumberZero
Summary: A series of little oneshots. Different characters, different pairings, maybe some of them will be AU. Always open for suggenstions. :)
1. Hold together

AN: Ok, so this started out as a little idea with a friend and by now I've written quite a bit about it. I'm planning on writing little oneshots (probably between 100 and 1000 words) to little prompts. I started with this list: art/NEW-100-drawing-challenge-260673062  
But now I'm pretty much open for any suggestions. If you have a prompt word you'd like me to do, post it in the comments. :)  
I'm not sure how many of those I'll make and I'm not promising that I'll fulfill everything in from the comments, but I'll do my best. (Also, if you want to you can combine your propmts with Characters or pairings)  
Warning: There'll be pairings in those oneshots, so please don't complain about slash or incest. There won't be anything too graphic, don't worry.  
Disclaimer: Supernatural Characters belong to their respectives owners. This goes for every chapter I put up here.

Hold together  
"Come on, guys, don't be like this. I'm sure we can settle this some other way! Please?", Gabriel pleaded. But his brothers didn't listen to him, they never did.  
Michael, still glaring at Luci, hissed: "Go away, Gabe, this does not concern you."  
But Gabriel didn't want to leave them, afraid of what would happen if he did. The last time, Lucifer had taken off, had stayed away for days.  
And Gabriel had worried himself sick.  
"Michael is right, Gabe, leave. This is between him and me.", Lucifer sneered.  
Gabriel stood between his brothers now, determind to keep the peace, hold them together.  
"Stop this! Can't you see what you're doing to each other? To all of us?", he screamed.  
He was desperate now. Why couldn't they see? Just open their eyes to the distruction and mayhem that was already taking hold.  
Tears were streaming down his face, sobs building in his throat, choking him.  
But Lucifer and Michael didn't open their eyes, didn't look around and see. Instead, Michael pushed his little brother aside, storming at Lucifer and taking him down, engaging in yet another fight.  
And Gabriel couldn't take it anymore. He rose from the ground, ignored by his brothers, casted a last glance at them and started running. The tears were blurring his vision now, but he continued running.  
Anger built in his chest, fueled by desperation and lonliness.  
And he didn't stop, didn't look back, untill he found himself on earth, alone and angry.  
He was done with holding heaven together, done with the betrayal.


	2. Love

Love  
It had only been a few weeks since they moved in together and Jess had enjoyed every moment so far. She came out of the bathroom, her hair still slightly wet from the shower and wearing her favorite cartoon t-shirt.  
Sam was hunched over one of his books, so engrossed in it that he didn't notice her until she leaned over his shoulder and closed it.  
He looked up at her, smiling. She kissed him lightly on the lips and asked him if he was still learning.  
Sam rubbed his eyes, obviously tired.  
"Yeah, you know I have an examen soon.", She run her fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.  
Sam all but purred, closing his eyes and enjoying Jess' affection. He leaned back in his chair and rested his head on her tummy, still smiling like a fool.  
Jess leaned down, kissing him again. Against his lips, she breathed 'I love you'.  
For a fraction of a second, Sam tensed. Then, quietly:  
"I love you, too." 


	3. Hate

Hate  
John turned towards his sons again, wanting to give the last orders.  
Dean stood at attention, though he already knew what his father was going to say. Protect Sam, make sure you're safe, stay in the motel room. The usual. And like usual, he'd do his best to follow those orders.  
Sam was another matter. He glared at the wall, shoulders slumped and arms crossed. John sighed, he should have seen this coming.  
He had returned from his last hunt not three days ago and actually planned to spend some time with his boys after that. But a call from Caleb had him taking off yet again. And of course, Sam blamed him for this.  
"Alright,", he started with a stern voice, "Dean, you know the drill. You don't leave your brother alone, make sure that the room is safe and don't open the door."  
Dean nodded. He had heard those words more often than he could count. When his father addresed Sammy, he bit his lip. His younger brother was definitely **not **in a good mood and he wasn't afraid to show it. Dean didn't want another fight.  
When his father started speaking, Sammy moved his glare from the wall to his face, but only because he didn't want to deal with a lecture on disrespect. He wasn't listening, knowing what was said anyway. When his father laid a hand on his shoulder, though, he started to pay attention.  
With a grimm look on his face, John said: "Listen, I know you don't like this,neither do I. But there are people dy..."  
Before he could finished his sentence, Sam interrupet him: "Dying, yeah, I know. Whatever, Dad." Then, before storming to his room, he spat out: "I hate you!".


	4. Eager

Eager  
"Come on, Dean, I don't wanna be late!", Dean chuckled. His little brother was way too excited about this. His geek brain was probably close to exploding.  
Sam was bouncing on his feet, not staying still for a second. As soon as Dean had locked the car, he dragged him towards the field.  
He laid down in the grass, which was almost tall enough to swallow the boy, and looked up at the dark night sky. Here, a few miles away from the city, the stars were clearly visible. The moon shone bright and not one cloud was in the way.  
A grin spread over his face, infecting Dean in the process. He sat beside his brother, keeping an eye on their surroundings.  
They stayed like this for a while. Sam, calmer now, laying in the grass, hands behind his head and Dean sitting beside him.  
Suddenly, Sam sat up, shook Dean's shoulder and pointed at the sky.  
"Look, Dean!" And Dean looked up and saw. Shooting stars, illuminating the dark above them. More than he had ever seen in one night. Now he understood why Sammy had been so eager to come here tonight, begging him, even offering to do extra training and all of his chores.  
A silent 'Wow' slipped from his lips, full of awe. It didn't go unnnoticed by Sam, but he choose not to comment on it. Instead, he leaned against his big brother, breathing a quiet 'Thank you' in his chest.


	5. Hungry

Hungry  
Dean closed the book with a loud thud, making Sam aware of his frustration. But his brother, to his dismay, didn't even look up from his laptop.  
"Dude," he growled. Sam huffed.  
"What?"  
"I'm hungry. Let's make a break already, we've been here for hours."  
Sam sighed. Was there ever a time that Dean did not feel hungry? He just wanted to ask this exact question, when Dean spoke up again: "I'll pay."  
Those were the magical words. Sam wasn't starving, but he could probably do with a snack. And who was he to decline such an offer?  
Five minutes later, they stood in front of the nearest diner they had been able to find. Getting in and choosing a booth at the far end of the restaurant, they looked at the menue. A waitress came by, taking their orders.  
One small salad, one Bacon Burger with extra onions and fries and two cokes.  
Dean raised his eyebrows when he heard Sam ordering a small salad. His brother noticed his look and asked confused: "What?" Dean shrugged.  
"Sure that's all you want?" Sam nodded.  
After their food arrived, they started talking about their case. A werewolf was running wild and in two days, the moon cycle would be over again.  
They were discussing which place the werewolf would me most likely to show up this time when Sam finished his salad. To his surprise, he was still hungry.  
When Dean was distracted, looking out of the window for a second, he quickly snatched one of his fries. Luckily, Dean didn't notice.  
They resumed their discussion, but Sam felt distracted by his growling stomach. When Dean was once again not looking at his plate, Sam tried to steal another fry, or two. But before he could successfully complete his mission, Dean's hand clamped down over his.  
"Gotcha!", Dean gleefully exclaimed. "Told you you should have ordered more."  
Sam gave him the puppy look. "Dude, I'm hungry!"  
With a sigh, Dean pushed his almost empty plate over to his brother.


	6. Potty Emergency

Potty emergency  
"Daaaad?", John sighed. It was the third time now. A bit harsher than he intended to, he grumbled: "I said, not **now **Sammy. We'll be there soon."  
He looked at his son in the rearview mirror, noticing his quivering lower lip and the pout he was sporting. Again, he sighed.  
"I didn't mean it like that, Sammy, but we really don't have the time. Just... a little longer, okay?", he asked, hoping to placate his boy a bit. Sam nodded, but he still seemed upset.  
A few minutes later, he started again: "But Dad..."  
This time, Dean spoke up, too: "Dad, please, the first time he asked was over half an hour ago. He's only five!"  
John was almost shocked by the tone his boy used, but on the other hand, this was about Sam. Dean would always be protective about his little brother.  
His youngest started to fidget in his seat, crossing his ankles and clenching his fists. "Daddy, I really have to go!" he whined. Damn, it was becoming critical.  
John put his foot down. He knew that if Sam wouldn't find a toilett or any other way to relief himself as soon as possible, the Impala would need a serious cleaning. There was no stopping place nearby, but Sammy was reaching his limit in the backseat.  
So his father did the first thing he could think of. He pulled the car over, ran to Sam's side of the car, picked him up and ran with him behind the bushes which were just beside the road.  
About a minute later, they got back to the car. Sam, definitely happier now, climbed into the backseat and in Dean's lap. The older boy just layed an arm around his brother, who was asleep withing seconds. Luckily, the rest of the drive was more peacefull. **  
**


	7. Hellooooo sexy girlboy

Hellooooo sexy girl/boy  
It was already getting late and I was working the last shift at the little bar. Most of the customers were already drunk or at least planning to get there and so far, everything had been quiet. We didn't get a lot of guests here, today was no exeption.  
I was cleaning the counter when I heard the door open. Knowing that whoever had just entered would come and get what he want, I didn't turn around.  
Someone, probably the new guest, knocked on the counter to get my attention. I turned around and -  
Had to keep my jaw from dropping. In front of me sat two young man, still in their early twenties. And they were sexy as hell.  
One of them had longish brown hair and looked like he didn't belong in a bar. He was tall, like really tall, but didn't look as intimidating as the other guy.  
The shorter one had a worn leather jacket and this bad-boy aura around him, that one that you see in movies or read about but never see on a real guy. Well, until now.  
Mr. Badass looked at me expectingly, while his friend looked around, seemingly uncomfortable.  
I shook my head, trying to get the lustfull thoughts out of my head before they had a chance to settle there. Putting on my brightest smile, I asked: "So, what can I get you two gentleman?"  
Bigfoot looked at me as if he had just noticed me and ordered a water, instantly looking around the bar again. His friend rolled his eyes upon hearing this and ordered a beer for himself, grinning at me.  
God, I could do things to this guy...


	8. Nice to Meet You

Nice to meet you

Dean was excited, bouncing up and down on his seat. Today Mommy would come back and she'd bring his new little brother with him.  
He had been allowed to visit his Mommy in the hospital yesterday, but he hadn't met his brother yet.  
John reached over, laying a hand on the boy's knee to calm him down.  
"Easy there, Ace, you'll manage to hurt yourself," he chuckled when Dean looked at him with big eyes.  
"But Daddy, you telled me they would come home now! Why aren't they here yet?"  
John sighed. "Deano, they'll arrive any minute now. You'll see your brother soon enough," He pulled the four-year-old into his lap, knowing the child would calm down a bit. Just like expected, Dean snuggled closer to his father, toying around with one of his sleeves.  
Again, he looked up and asked: "Daddy, we can't keep calling him that."  
When he noticed his father's confused stare, he huffed and explained his statement, as if he was talking to someone slow: "He needs a name, we can't keep calling him little brother."  
Now John understood. Laughing, he told his boy: "But he already has a name, Ace. We just didn't come to tell you yet, we're sorry."  
And he meant it. Apparently, he and Mary had been more busy than he had thought over the last few days. He noticed Dean's pout, upset about not having been told the baby's name. Bouncing his leg a bit to make his son smile again, he asked: "Hey, don't you want to know?"  
Dean eagerly nodded his head, of course he wanted to know.  
Just when John had opened his mouth to tell him, the door opened. Immediately, Dean jumped up from his father's lap and ran towards his Mommy, who had just entered the house. John came closely after him, not quite able to catch him.  
The young boy stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the small bundle in Mary's arms, tightly wrapped in a blue blanket.  
Slower now, he walked towards her. He was still excited but he also didn't want to scare his new brother. If he scared him, maybe he wouldn't want to live with them anymore and he hadn't even seen him!  
Mary knelt down, gesturing for Dean to come closer and wrapping an arm around him.  
"Say hello to your little brother Dean."  
Dean looked down at the baby wrapped up in the blanket and a thousand questions shot through his head.  
_Why's he so wrinkly? How did he fit into Mommy? What did he do in Mommy's tummy all the time?  
_But most importantly, _How am I supposed to say hello if I don't know his name?  
_Then he noticed the dark blue letters stichted onto the lighter coloured blanket. Glad that his Daddy had already taught him a few, he read "S-A-M-U-E-L".  
But Samuel didn't sound right for the little boy, much too hard.  
So, nice and politely, like he had been taught, he said: "Hello Sammy, it's very nice to meet you!"


	9. Bath

Bath  
It had been to silent in the house and Bobby was becoming suspicious. Not that the two boys he had to watch over were usually very loud, they knew how to behave, but even for them it was quiet.  
He usually let them run around and let them do more or less whatever they wanted. They knew that the weapons were off limit and he trusted Dean to look after his little brother.  
Earlier, there had been some ruckus outside but it hadn't sounded like any of the little idjits had hurt himself or was about to be squashed by a car.  
Now he wanted to make sure they weren't doing anyhting stupid or dangerous, so he got up from his table where he had searched the newspaper for new cases and made his way towards the back door leading into the garden.  
He stopped when he saw the muddy footprints and puddles leading from his backdoor to his stairs and probably up to the boy's room.  
Great, just great. He liked the boys, more than he'd admit, mind you, but they could drive a saint to drink on some days. Not that they ever meant any harm.  
He trudged up the stairs, knowing where he would find the troublemakers.  
Just about to knock on their door, he stopped when he could hear the boy arguing inside. Their voices were muffled, but he could still make it out.  
"But De, you said we have to cwean it up..."  
"I know, Sammy, but first we have to get us cleaned up! We'll just get everything dirty again if we go down like this."  
Bobby chuckled. Figures.  
Rapping on the door, he entered without waiting for an answer.  
The sight in front of him was something to behold. Two little boys, covvered from head to toe in mudd and sporting a perfect dear-in-headlights look.  
Dean swallowed, probably fearing consequences and Sam seemed about to burst into tears. Yup, they were perfectly guilty.  
Cocking an eyebrow and with a growling voice, Bobby asked: "Anything you want to tell me, boys?"  
From Dean came a feebly 'Sorry Sir.' and Sam hid behind his brother's leg.  
Bobby shook his head, deciding to put the idjidts out of their misery. With a smile, he gruffly uttered: "I think somebody's in dire need of a bath. Come on, you two."  
Taking both of them by a hand, he lead them to the bathroom. He turned on the water to fill the bathtub, glad that Sam and Dean were still young enough to fit in one without being embarrassed about it.  
Obediently, they took off their clothes after being told so and got into the water. Sammy's wet bangs were covering his eyes now and he tried, clumsily, to get rid of them. Bobby lend him a helping hand, tucking the brown hair back.  
The boy looked up at him with big eyes. In a timid voice, he asked: "Are we in twouble, uncle Bobby?"  
The old hunter shook his head, giving him a reassuring look.  
"Nah, you two just soak here a bit and I'll take care of your mess downstairs" Dean looked ready to argue, telling him that they were responsible for it and that they should be the one cleaning it up, but Bobby interrupted him before he could even open his mouth.  
"Now don't you go telling me something else, boy. Just try to keep the mess in here down, alright? I'll be back in a few minutes."  
The twinkling in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't mad at them and relief washed over Deans features. He gave Bobby one of his rare smiles.  
"Thank you, uncle Bobby" Bobby huffed, damn dust was settling in his eyes. Because no, he wouldn't shed a tear just because one little boy smiled at him. He ruffled Sammy's hair, throwing Dean a grin and left them to themselves. Hopefully his bathroom would survive two Winchesters without supervision.


	10. Busted!

Busted!  
Dean was on his way back to the motel, cursing himself. How the hell had he managed to forget his wallet? He never left his wallet.  
At least he had his keys, or he wouldn't be driving right now. Parking the car in front of their apartment, he made his way to the door. However, before he could open it, he heard noises from inside.  
He drew his weapon, ready to storm in, when he could suddenly make out exactly what kind of noises were coming from the room.  
Groaning, curses, moans and the unmistakable squeeking of worn beds. So this was the reason Sam had decided to stay here instead of coming with him to the bar. Now he had the choice. Either go back to the car and wait until Sam was done or try to sneak in without his brother noticing, getting his wallet and sneaking out again.  
He decided to do the later, of course **not **because he was curious. Later, he'd regrett his choice.  
As quiet as possible, he opened the door. He was glad that Sam and his companion had a blanket over them, he didn't want to see any details. Only a few feet away from him, the moanign started again.  
"Fuck, Sammy... harder!"  
_Wait a moment, I know that voice!  
_Dean was shocked. It couldn't be...?  
"Sammy?", he asked. All of a sudden, the movement on the bed stopped. Dean only heard a quiet 'Shit!' coming from his brother. He turned away from the bed, behind him the sounds of someone dressing in a hurry.  
"Dean, I... I can explain..."  
Looking at his brother, he winced when he saw his companion still sprawled naked over the bed. That guy knew no shame! Sam, at least, looked contrite (and had his pants on).  
"Really, Sammy? Then please explain to me why I find you in bed with Gabriel, of all people!"  
Behind him, he heard the archangel laugh while Sam sighed.


	11. Singing

Singing  
Sam opened the door to their motel room, already hearing the radio blast from the bathroom. To his surprise, it wasn't some semi-famous rock band, growling and abusing their equipment, but the lovesong 'Narcotic' from the band Liquido, to which his brother was singing along to.  
Apparently, Dean was in a really good mood.  
He yelled a quick 'I'm home' just to warn his brother in case he wanted to turn off the singing. In stead, though, Dean turned up the volume of the radio, making it's quality even worse, and yelled back: "You better brought some pie, Sammy! I'm starving!"  
He started his singing again, horribly off-key.  
Sam chuckled. Yeah, definitely in a good mood.


	12. Cat

Cat  
He was tired, tired and alone. Bobby was in town, taking care of someone's car problems and Sam had left a few hours earlier, saying he needed fresh air.  
So Dean was the only one at the Salvage Yard right now. He lay on the couch, attempting to sleep but ending up thinking about things he didn't want to think about. The apocalypse, for exapmle, heaven and hell, the usual stuff.  
The whole time he had not paid a lot of attention to his surroundings, so he was startled when all of a sudden he heard noises in the room. His body tensed, preparing for an attack. Noticing that his knife was still at the table where he had sharpened it ealier he cursed himself.  
_How could he have been so stupid?  
_He listened closer now, trying to determine what was in the room with him. It was quiet, making almost no noise at all and sounded soft, like little soft footprints.  
The noise stopped. A few seconds later he heard something... purr?  
His body jumped, almost giving him a heart attack when something small, black and furry suddenly jumped on his chest.  
No question. The unruly, frigthening monster was a cat.  
Dean settled down again, scolding himself for being scared so easily. While he did his best to glare at the ball of furr, the cat just yawned and made itself comfortbale.  
Hesistantly, not wanting to scare it, he started stroking the creature. Maybe Bobby had forgotten to close a window somewhere and the wild one here had taken the chance to explore the house a bit.  
Anyway, Dean liked the cat. It was warm, purred when he stroked it and seemed perfectly happy at it's current spot.  
He smiled to himself. Cat's were nice. They weren't as needy as dogs and had their own mind. Sam said they were stubborn and bossy, but Sam said the same about him, so to hell with his opinion.  
Dean had always been more of a cat person anyway.

AN: In the middle of writing this I remembered that Dean has a cat hair allergy, but let's just ignore that for a little while .


	13. Dog

Dog  
He was annoyed. With his older brother, with those freakin' angels, with everything. He couldn't stand the accusing stares anymore.  
Today he offered to get diner at the nearest take out, just to get away from Dean for a few minutes.  
He was just about to walk into the little Biggerson's restaurant when he heard a whining from his left side. Looking down, he saw a labrador sitting next to the door.  
Normally, Sam liked dogs but right now he wasn't in the mood.  
_Couldn't people tie their mutts somewhere else?  
_He went into the dinner, ordered and waited for the teen behind the counter to give him the food. Paying with a fake credit card, he bid his good bye and was ready to leave, when he heard the whining again.  
The mutt was still where he had left him, looking miserable and lonely. Sighing, Sam knelt down beside the animal.  
_Why would someone leave his dog like this anyway?  
_He hold his hand to the dog's nose, letting him decide if he was a threat or not. When he started to lick his fingers, Sam couldn't hold back a smile.  
He carded his fingers through the mutt's furr, which he obviously enjoyed. Lazily, he wagged his tail and made noises of content.  
Sam liked dogs. They were loyal and not as stubborn and bossy as cats. Dean said they were needy, but Dean often said the same about him, even if he was just kidding, so to hell with his opinion.  
Sam had always been more of a dog person anyway.


	14. Bird

Bird/Fish (choose one)  
It was only late october and already drop dead cold in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Snow had fallen last night and even though the temperatur hadn't dropped below 32° yet, the weather seemed freezing.  
Bobby was out, taking a walk with Rumsfeld and a well deserved break from Hunters asking him for favors or any kind of research.  
He had switched his beloved cap with a thick fur hat, courtesy of the Winchesters last christmas. His heavy boot left a clear trace behind, Rumsfeld's little prints looking rather funny in comparison. His hands were burried in his coat and a long, colorfull skarf the nice neighbour lady had given to him sometime last winter was wrapped around his neck.  
All in all, he felt quite cozy.  
The dog was rolling around in the snow, having the time of his life. Bobby often thought that he was a bit too good-natured for a watchdog, but he still loved him.  
Rumsfeld was walking in front of him now, wagging his tail and keeping his nose on the ground. Suddenly, he jumped forward and started to bark at something laying in the snow.  
Bobby, wanting to see what got the dog so excited, pushed him a bit to the side and barked a "Down!" at him. The dog whined but followed the order.  
The old hunter looked down and was surprised to find a little bird, flopping around in the snow seemingly not able to fly or move around much. He picked the little fella up, immediately seeing the problem.  
One wing was broken, uselessly sticking to his side. For one second, Bobby considered to just leave the bird where he had found it, letting nature have it's way. But he found that he couldn't do it.  
"Balls, ya getting soft, Singer," he grumbled to himself while he carefully wrapped the bird in his skarf.  
He'd try to set the broken wing and care for the little bit during the winter, just until he could safely let him out again.  
"Ya hear me? Soon as it's getting warmer again, you're out, buddy."  
Motioning for Rumsfeld to follow him, which the mutt happily did, he made his way home.

A few months later, when the boys asked him how and why he got himself a bird, he just told them to mind their own business.


	15. I'm fat!

I'm fat  
Dean walked into the motel room they were staying at, only to find his brother in front of the closet mirrow. He stood there only in his gray boxers, turning and looking at himself from every angle. Dean coughed to make himself noticed.  
Immediately, Sam turned towards him, grabbing the blanket from the nearest bed and covering himself. Shocked, he exclaimed: "Dean! What the hell? Ever heard about knocking?"  
Dean chuckled. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Samantha. What are you doing there anyway?"  
Sam turned back to the mirror. He dropped the blanket and continued to analize his body. With an angry glare, he patted his stomach and whined: "Dean, I'm fat!"  
At this coment, Dean had to keep from laughing out loud. He got a coke out of the fridge and said: "Are you kidding me? That's girly, even for you."  
But Sam seemed to be serious. He went over to his brother and dragged him over to the mirror with him. Standing in front of Dean, he gestured to his reflection. Obviously upset, he said: "Look at me! I'm fat, chubby, whatever you wanna call it. And you, you're, " He threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "You're tall, and strong, all muscle. I'm flabby and small and chubby." He furrowed his brows.  
Quietly, in a defeated tone, he asked: "Why can't I be more like you?"  
Dean sighed. So this was the reason for all of this.  
He drew Sam coser, keeping an arm around him.  
"Look, Sam. When I was your age, I wasn't any better. When I was eleven, I was just as small, just as chubby and... well, I guess I wasn't as flabby, but you know what I mean." He grinned at his brother, knowing when to comfort him and when he could tease him.  
He patted his shoulder, going back to the kitchen area.  
"Don't worry, Sammy, you're perfectly normal for your age. And with a little training with your awesome brother, you'll be brawny in no time. And now get dressed, before I become blind.", still grinning he got another coke and threw it over to his brother.  
Sam catched it, smiling again.  
"It's Sam, jerk."  
"Bitch."


	16. Where are my Clothes!

Where are my clothes?!

Sam got out of the shower, still dripping wet. He dried himself off and, towel around his hips, went to his duffel bag in the search of new clothes. To his surprise, though, he couldn't even find a pair of socks. Not even dirty clothes were in there anymore, all his clothes were gone. Behind him, he heard his brother snicker.  
Annoyed, he exclaimed: "Dean, this is not funny. Where did you put them?"  
Dean tried to look innocent, which he failed miserably at. His face-splitting grin gave him away.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sammy-boy." Sam huffed. Figures.  
"I mean it, give 'em back. I'm not going to walk around in a towel for the rest of the day.", he said, not very happy with the way this was heading.  
Dean pouted. "Why not? It's not like we had any plans for this evening," The grin returned, even brither if this was somehow possible. "And if you're uncomfotable in the towel, you could just drop it, you know?"  
Sam sighed, he should have seen that coming. "Dean..." he whined, fully planning on telling his brother that they were in the middle of a case and that he wasn't really in the mood anyway, when said brother suddenly stood in front of him, gently pushing him down on the bed standing behind them.  
All thoughts of telling Dean off flew out of the window when he felt him crushing his lips against his own, slowly working his tongue in his mouth. Sam couldn't hold back a moan, indicating for Dean to do anything but stop, making the older man chuckle.  
Clothes were definitely overrated.


	17. Thief

Thief

I looked up when the little bell over the door rang, alerting me to two boys entering the shop. I was suspicious. Not that I had any prejudices, but those two looked... ragged.  
Probably around nine and five years old, the older one holding his brother, I guess, tightly by the hand. Their clothes were definitely second-hand, the younger one was in dire need of a hair cut and both could use a bath.  
I decided to keep an eye on them, just in case.  
The older one began to go around the store, looking at canned and microvaweable food. He took some money out of his pocket, counting it. The whole time, he didn't let go of his brother. The little guy looked around but didn't beg for anything, like most children did. At least not untill they came to the aisle with the candy. I saw the blonde boy picking up a candy bar and holding it up to his brother.  
But the older brother shook his head, a sad look on his face.  
Honestly, I expected tears from the boy. Screaming. A tantrum. Anything but him laying the candy bar back and following his brother to the next aisle.  
I lost them for a moment, but soon they were back in my view. The boys surprised me again when the older let go of his brother, gave him some kind of instruction and leaving him alone. Now he stood there, alone, holding the bag with the things his brother had picked up.  
When I saw older brother vanish in the candy aisle, I went after him. Even if they had surprised me so far, I didn't trust children in my shop.  
I just got around the corner when I saw him putting the candy bar from earlier in his pocket. He jumped when I cleared my throat, clearly startled. Grabbing his arm, I dragged him over to the counter.  
His little brotehr was still standing where he had left him, but seeing me dragging him along, he immediately ran towards us.  
"Dean! Get away from my brother!", he exclaimed fearfully. 'Dean' yelled back: "Stay where you are, Sammy, it's ok".  
And 'Sammy' did. He stopped dead in his tracks, almost toppling over. He had tears in his eyes and was obviously afraid, but he followed the order he had been given.  
I let go of Dean, not wanting to traumatize the poor child.  
Dean looked up to me, looking way older than nine or ten years. With a serious voice, he said: "I'm very sorry Sir, it won't happen again. Are you goin to call the police, Sir?"  
I shook my head. Those kids were just... strange. The neighbourhood here wasn't the best and the reason I didn't trust kids around here was that I often had them in my shop, stealing. But those were different. They never really stuck together, not even if related.  
Dean and Sammy, on the other hand, seemd to care what happened to each other and Dean surely didn't steal this candy bar for himself.  
I took the bag with items from Sammy and went over to the counter, starting to scan them. Dean looked confused. I waved him over telling him to pay for the things on the counter.  
He handed the money over, I gave him the bag and, looking him directly in the eyes, put two candy bars in it. Then I handed him the bag and told him to go home and he should come back if he or Sammy needed anything.  
Relief washed over his face. He mumbled a quick 'Thank you', smiled at me, took Sammy by the hand and did as he was told.  
I looked after them untill they were out of my view again.  
Kids.


	18. Like a Superhero

Like a Superhero

They stood on the roof of the little gardening shed, both dressed as their favorite superheros. They had found t-shirts with the logos at some thrift shop not long ago and now wore them with matching capes made form the motel's bed sheets.

Sam had wanted to play and Dean had gone along with it, so when Sam had started talking about how awesome flying and protecting Gotham City from above would be, the older boy hadn't had the heart to tell his brother that Batman couldn't fly. Because really, who dressed up as a bat and didn't fly? It was ridiculous.

So now here they stood, Dean dressed as Superman, Sam dressed as Batman and both about to jump of that shed. Dean chuckled, thinking what their Dad's reaction would be to that.

"You ready, Sammy?", he asked, wanting to make sure that his brother really wanted to do this. The smaller boy nodded and gave him a big smile.

Okay, so maybe he was a little bit scared, but if Dean was going to jump, then so was he. Because no way was Sam Winchester afraid of anything if his brother was not.

"Alright, so here we go!"

Dean grinned widely, taking a few steps as a run-up and then jumping from the roof top as high as he could, enjoying the short moment of "flying" through the air. He landed, quite gracefully, if he could say so, and did a roll, like his Dad had taught him. The impact had been a bit harder than expected but he was fine, and it had been awesome.

Excited, he turned around to his brother. "Come on, jump!", he called out. "It's great!"  
So Sam threw himself of the shed, giggling after seeing his brother do the stunt and wanting to try it himself. But the smile quickly turned to dread when he realized that he had no idea how to land.

Dean watched with horror as his little brother seemed to struggle in the air for a second and then came down on his side, hard. He heard something crack.

He immediately ran to Sam, who got up before he could reach him. Cradling his right arm he looked up at his brother, both apparently in shock.

Then the pain set in and the next thing Dean had his sobbing brother on the handlebars of his bike, trying to get him to the next ER as quickly as possible. Once they were there, they were settled down in the waiting area, Dean desperately trying to calm his brother.

By the time the doctor came to see them Sam was only sniffling quietly. The man got to work quickly and withing twenty minutes they were good to go. Dean had charmed the hospital staff into letting him leave on his own with his brother, giving them a phone number to call which belonged to their father. Sure.

The only thing left to do was filling out a few forms. Actually, he just had to put in their names ("Your Dad can complete them later, sweety"). So while Dean was busy with the paper work, the doctor talked a bit to Sam.

Looking at the five-year old, now with a big cast on his arm, he asked: "So why did you jump of that shed in the first place? Batman can't fly, you know."

"Really?! But then how does he always get the bad guys?", Sam acted surprised, for his brother's sake. He knew that Batman couldn't fly, but Dean didn't need to know that he knew.

Who needed Batman anyway if he had a big brother as a superhero?  
Because if Dean jumped, so would Sam.


End file.
